Combat Camp
by electronic-ood
Summary: When Stiles joins the pack on a camping trip in the forest, where Derek is going to train them in self control and combat, he wonders exactly what it is he's gotten himself in for.
1. Chapter 1

Stiles looked at the clock as it ticked so slowly it he swore it almost froze. When his economics teacher had asked the class to write an essay on inflation he had perfected a 1000 word essay on the pros and cons of becoming a male stripper which he had yet to hand in, but as the rest of the class worked he found that he had exhausted all means of entertainment.

So now he watched the clock as the seconds ticked away towards the end of class. After class him and the pack were heading out to the middle of the Beacon Hills forest for some training that Derek was enforcing upon them. He had thought that he wouldn't have to attend this but Derek had insisted that he did, threatening to hunt him down and rip his throat out if he was absent.

Normally he wouldn't be looking forward to being slave driven by a moody sourwolf but given the choice between that and the monotonous economics class he was currently in, it was a no brainer. Finally the piercing ring of the school bell rang out, Stiles slid his stationary and work books off the table and into his bag, dumped the essay on the teacher's desk and bouncingly waited for Scott.

As they walked through the car park to Stiles' long suffering jeep they were joined by Erica, Jackson and Isaac. Erica gave him a vaguely a predatory stare which made him quickly move so Scott was between them. As Jackson boasted about how much vodka he was smuggling into the camping trip, Stiles climbed into the driving seat and started the engine.

As Stiles drove the pack to the previously decided meeting place in the forest he couldn't help wondering why Derek had invited him. He had claimed that Stiles needed training in control and combat just as much as anybody. Stiles supposed he couldn't argue with that no matter how uneasy the whole thing made him feel. He couldn't help remembering when Scott had first been turned and had tried to kill him.

A sudden thought struck him. What if Peter was there? Though he knew that Peter was working with them (well if not them he was certainly working with Derek) he was still wary of him after the fight in the hospital where Derek had saved his ass like he had been some kind of Damsel in distress. He hoped that he wouldn't have to confront him. The pack would be there this time, that was something at least.

Finally they reached the clearing in the woods Derek had decided upon as their training grounds. Clamoring out of the jeep the pack quietened as they stared around them. The clearing was far enough away from town to avoid suspicion and surrounded by dense, dark forest. At the far other side of it, various obstacles had been set up including targets, dummies, and lengths of chain. Closer to them lay tents, which had been pitched next to Derek's slick black car.

In the distance Stiles could make out Derek's leather clad form next to two others which he assumed were Boyd and, unfortunately Peter. In his trademark over dramatic style, Derek raced on all fours to greet them, eyes red and fangs drawn. Whilst Peter chose to amble slowly towards the pack, rolling his eyes. As they joined the group Boyd went to stand with Erica, Peter stood at a short distance from the group and Derek straightened up clearly about to make a speech.

Eyeing Peter waryily Stiles wondered if perhaps he should have risked getting his throat torn out after all. One thing was for certain. He was glad Jackson had brought that vodka.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Stiles was aware of upon waking was the dull pain in his neck. Slowly he became aware of the strange position his neck was twisted into, as well as the twigs he was sleeping on that were caught beneath his tent floor. He stretched out, making small squeaking noises like a miniature dinosaur. Twisting onto his side he saw Scott glaring at him.

"Dude could you BE any louder?" Scott groaned.

"Sorry for waking you." Stiles mumbled as he went to check his phone. No service. He was in the woods, with Peter and Derek Hale, with no phone service. Fantastic.

"You didn't wake me. I can hear Boyd and Erica making out from hear. Werewolf hearing is such a curse." Scott moaned, disgusted.

"Yeah. Having super human senses. Sounds terrible." Stiles grumbled as he tried to find a more comfortable position for his head.

Scott opened his mouth to reply but then stopped, perking an ear up towards the door of the tent. "Derek is calling us" he said at the same time as Stiles heard the sounds of the other werewolves emerging from their tents.

Stiles climbed out of the tent, blinking as he shielded his eyes with his hands, his eyes slowly adjusting to the bright morning light. Slowly he focused on Derek, who was standing in the middle of the meadow, hands in his pockets, barefoot, waiting for the betas to join him. He was wearing an identical pair of jeans as the ones he wore yesterday, but the a loose grey t shirt replaced the leather jacket,

The betas slowly walked towards him, all looking equally bleary and tired. The sun was high in the sky but it can't have been later than seven am.

Derek gave them a quick briefing. They were to eat breakfast, then the training would begin.

* * *

Breakfast that consisted of, much to the pack's disgust, porridge void of any sugar or fruit ("Oats are nutritional" Derek had replied to the protests)

It was none the less devoured before everyone headed back to the training field. Today, they were told, training would consist of simple physical endurance. Peter was apparently exempt from the activities as, at Derek had put it, "His return from the dead shows perfected technique and control at least".

As he neared the obstacles, Stiles could see additions that had been added over night. As well as the chains, dummies and targets there was also a full obstacle course. This included a large muddy trench covered in barbed wire, a trail of tires which led to the edge of the looming forest and Stiles could just make out the beginnings of a trail. Craning his neck around he scoured the edge of the greenery and found what he assumed was the other end of the trail on the other side of the clearing.

"How was it even possible to get this stuff here overnight?! I didn't hear anything!" Stiles hissed at Scott. The werewolf simply shrugged, his eyes glued to Derek who had begun to divide the group onto pairs.

Erica and Boyd, Scott and Isaac and, much to Stile's horror, him and Jackson, who smirked at Stiles clearly contemplating what a simple victory was in store for him. Derek explained that in turns they were to make their way through the course, competing against the person they were paired with. They were to crawl through the trench under the wire, run through the tires (taking time to step in each one), climb the a tree at the edge of the forest then finally sprint the path through the woods.

The pairs lined up at a designated line in the grass behind the trench - Erica and Boyd at the front, Stiles and Jackson second, Scott and Isaac last. Derek glanced at the course and then at Erica and Boyd. Boyd was eyeing Erica nervously, who was staring determinedly at the course, her blonde hair pulled back into a tight pony tail.

"Ready!" he bellowed. The pair positioned themselves behind the line. "Set!", they crouched, Erica flashed Boyd a grin. "GO!" And they were off.

* * *

They dived beneath the wire into the trench. Boyd grunted as he pulled himself on his elbows through the mud. Even with their elevated stamina and physique Stiles could see them struggling through the extremely thick mud. Almost at the end, Erica raised her head towards the exit gap in the wire. Suddenly her hair snagged on the wire and she was pulled backwards. As Boyd ducked his head under the wire and pulled himself out of the trench, Erica gritted her teeth and tugged her hair free and turned to catch up with Boyd.

By the time she caught up, Boyd was almost finished with the tyres, clearing the last ones by leaping in and out of them, knees in the air. Despite his impressive physique, athletic legs, taut arm muscles, he was clearly tiring. Covered in mud, sweat dripped into his eyes and his brow furrowed as he tried to concentrate and gather his energy.

As he ran towards the edge of the forest and towards the trees Erica finally caught up and together they started to climb as Derek walked over to the bass of the trees. Both of them were struggling and even from where they were standing the others could hear Derek shouting at them. Erica's arms shook as she desperately tried to pull herself up. Boyd was ahead but not by much. Digging her fingernails in and wincing as splinters edged under her nails, she tried to push her feet against the tree trunk to boost herself upwards.

Losing her footing she tumbled downwards, landing on her back. Derek yelled harshly at her she scrambled back towards the tree. Boyd, reaching the top of his tree slid downwards and ran into the bush. Before he was out of sight he turned to glance worryingly back at Erica - only to earn a deep growl from Derek.

Erica stood for a second, gathering herself, and then launched herself at the tree. With what looked like every ounce of strength she had left, she pulled herself towards the top of the towering tree. Finally reaching the top, she clung, gasping, to catch her breath. She looked for the first time in a long time, like the girl Stiles had known prior to her getting The Bite.

Finally, she slid down the tree and, with a glare at Derek, set off into the woods.

As Derek moved his head slowly to follow the sounds of Boyd and Erica charging through the woods, Stiles turned to Scott.

"I AM GOING TO DIE!" Stiles stressed. "Stop being so melodramatic, it's just an obstacle course. We do them all the time for lacrosse." Jackson snapped.

"You saw how it broke Erica!" Stiles said, ignoring Jackson. "I don't have your powers! I am going to die!"

Before Scott could say anything, Derek gestured for Jackson and Stiles to take their places behind the line as Boyd and Erica broke through the forest at the other side of the clearing.

Stiles threw Scott one more petrified look.

"Ready!"

"Set!"

"GO!"


	3. Chapter 3

The second Stiles' pushed off from the line Jackson was already in front of him. As he climbed under the barbed wire he could see him struggling through the mud ahead. Lying down on his stomach and positioning his arms ahead of him he began to pull himself through the mud by his elbows.

Only a few minutes in and Stiles was already exhausted. His arms were aching and he was only just able to keep up a regular pace. He could feel mud gathering in the ends of his pants, in his shoes and in the neck hole of his shirt, as he dragged himself forward. Looking upwards through the mud he could see Derek looming over him, staring down as Stiles struggled.

Focusing back on the trench, he noticed that Jackson was pulling himself out of the mud. "_Yeah. Great day to be a werewolf" _Stiles thought to himself. A dip in the wire, where Erica had been caught, forced Stiles to bury his head in the mud to avoid it. Both his nose and his mouth became clogged with mud, causing him stop, spluttering and choking. He tried to wipe his nose and face but his hand was covered in mud and it only made matters worse.

Above him Derek had begun to shout. "Stilinski! If you don't start moving I am going to rip away the wire, and drag you through the mud MYSELF" Not wanting to test the limits of Derek's anger Stiles began to drag himself through the mud, desperately trying to cough and spit the mud out of his mouth. Finally he saw the end gap of the wire. With all his strength he battled towards it, feeling the ache in his arms.

Reaching the end he slipped his mud slicked arms out of the gap and, digging his fingers into grass and dirt heaved his tried body out of the trench. The mud tried to pull him back in and his arms were screaming in pain but finally he managed to roll out onto dry land. For a few seconds he lay on his back catching his breath but in his peripheral vision he saw Derek moving towards him. Hauling himself to his feet he glanced forward to the tires.

He honestly didn't know how to go on. He felt depleted of all energy. But not wanting to risk Derek's wrath he pushed himself onwards to the tires. He managed to hop into one with his right leg, and then into another with his left. But as we went for the next one he was unable to muster the energy and hit the side of it with his foot - causing him to stumble sideways. He landed on his shoulder and became aware of the pain at the same time he became aware that Derek was standing over him.

Instead of yelling at him, Derek used a quietly furious voice. "Stiles, you need to move. Now. Before I turn and rip your throat out. With my teeth."

Ignoring the shooting pain in his shoulder, Stiles pushed himself up with his good arm and completed the rest of the tires. Jackson was well out of sight which meant that Derek's full attention was on him. Fantastic.

Limping over to the edge of the forest he picked the smallest tree, which wasn't saying much, and slumped down at its base. "Yeah. I know. Throat. Teeth." Stiles mumbled to Derek's looming silhouette. "But I can't climb this tree. Like, physically can't do it. Impossible."

"Not only are you going to do it, you are going to do it IMMEDIATELY. BEFORE I DO SOMETHING I MIGHT REGRET!" Derek bellowed, teeth bared and eyes red.

Stiles scrambled up the tree, ignoring his shoulder which was screaming out it pain. The still wet mud made it even more difficult however and he slipped back to the base. He tried again, this time trying to put one leg on either side of the tree and push off from them. Despite having very little grip on the tree this technique worked and slowly he began to inch his way up the tree.

* * *

Half way up and it felt like every bone and muscle within his body was dying. His neck and head ached from staring upwards, his arms felt stretched and torn from the trench and now having to pull the entirety of his body weight up the tree. His shoulder still stabbed with pain, but he was trying to ignore this.

Finally he reached the top of the tree. Clinging on and catching his breath he looked down. He could see Derek beneath him and, waiting on the other side of the obstacle course were Isaac and Scott, and a mud covered Erica and Boyd. On the opposite side of the clearing he saw Jackson break through the edge of the forest and start jogging towards them.

Stiles slowly started to loosen his legs, letting himself slide down the tree. Reaching half way, he loosened his legs a little too much and fell to the ground, the ground shock piercing through his feet and up his legs.

Glaring at Derek he started to limp off into the forest. Thankfully Derek turned and walked back to Scott and Isaac so he was free to go at his own pace. The track he was following was clearly distinguished from the groundling plants, dead leaves and dirt that surrounded it. It looked old, like it had been stamped out by hundreds of people before him. Thankfully there was no uphill or anything else to challenge him.

In the distance he heard Derek bellow "GO!" to start off Scott and Isaac.

Thick, gnarled tree trucks surrounded him and birdsong echoed around the dense bush. The track slowly curved out from the clearing and into the bush. On and on he stumbled.

* * *

He was deep into the forest now, no longer able to see the light shining through the trees from the clearing. Stopping and looking upwards he watched the tree tops, each tree competing for space with their net of branches and leaves.

Interrupting the birdsong came a noise from behind him. He listened. He could hear footsteps, the sound of bare feet hitting well packed earth. Suddenly Isaac and Scott rounded the corner.

"Woah!" exclaimed Scott who narrowly escaped running straight into him. "You're still in here?!" Before he could reply Isaac took in Stiles' bruises, twisted shoulder and limping gait, "Dude. Are you alright?"

"No! I'm not alright! Derek is being a slave driver! A SLAVE DRIVER!" Stiles repeated, madly waving his arms around his head to emphasise his point before regretting it and clutching his shoulder.

"Yeah, you've got a point there." Scott agreed as the track started to curve back to the clearing. "I don't know why he's being so hard on you compared to everyone else."

"I mean he did the whole...looming thing with Scott and I." Isaac added. "But he didn't _say _anything. Let alone flash his eyes and scream at us."

"Maybe this means I'm his favourite!" Stiles said sarcastically, stepping out of the woods and into the blinding light of the clearing. "Oh God! Sometimes I forget there's a giant ball of fire in the sky!" Stiles cried as he shielded his eyes with his hand.

* * *

Stiles, Scott and Isaac finally joined the others as Derek told them to go and wash in the river nearby. Everyone headed back to the tents to grab towels and clean clothes. "Good work Stiles" Jackson sneered. Unable to find the energy to put together a good come back Stiles simply rolled his eyes.

Reaching the tents Stiles told the others to go on without him. He was too tired and sore to trek out to the river. He would just sleep and then go later. As the others headed back towards the forest Stiles collapsed outside his tent. He decided to just sleep where he was because it wasn't worth trekking mud all through his tent.

The last thing Stiles noted before he fell asleep was Derek and Peter talking, and staring at him from a distance which was somewhat uncomfortable. But he was too tired to care.

* * *

_**Thanks for reading! Please review! Fun fact - listened to this playlist today while writing - 8tracks dotcom / adivinecomedy/oh-i-don-t-know-i-think-you-two-make-a-pretty-good-pair **_


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles woke up and immediately wished that he hadn't. He hurt _everywhere._ That wasn't even an exaggeration - his entire body ached to the point where he could hardly sit up. Lying in the foetal position, outside his tent where he had fallen asleep, he felt aching in muscles he hadn't previously known he had. His body felt stiff and sore. His shoulder was unbearably painful. It didn't look like he had done anything major to it other than pulling a muscle, but it throbbed like hell. His legs were killing him as well. He could feel the pain radiating out of the bones and muscles of his joints. His neck hurt from the way he had been sleeping on it, as well as the hard ground that had been his pillow. As his eyes adjusted to the light he looked over himself. The mud he had dragged himself through had dried, leaving a thick crust over his clothes and legs. And the bruises. They were everywhere. There were bruises he had no idea how he had gotten. Glancing down his shirt he saw already purple bruises dappled over his pale chest.

He could hear the shouts of the pack who were heading back from the river. He decided that, considering how he reeked of sweat and mud, he should probably have a shower. Screwing up his nose at the smell, he felt the mud on his face crack and peel. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself onto his feet and, picking out his towel from his bag, he started to limp across the clearing.

The pack gave him waves and sympathising looks as he passed by them. Thankfully Peter and Derek were nowhere to be seen, having retreated to their tent. Finally he reached the trail at the edge of the forest and started his trek to the river.

* * *

The forest was the same tranquil place as it had been when he had walked through it after the torturous course. To pass the time he studied the gnarled trunks of the trees and the strangling, parasitic creeper plants growing round them. Stiles wondered how long the trees had been around, what they had seen. Looking up he watched the birds jump from branch to branch. He was able to ignore the pain which was plaguing his body by zoning out and listening to the bird call to each other. Finally after a long walk the bush started to thin down. At last the forest broke completely and he stepped out into the sun.

At the end of the muddy path was a swimming hole, which was completely sheltered by the surrounding bush. The waters slowly swirled around the muddy bank. Slowly and painfully Stiles stripped off his mud covered shirt and congratulated himself for hurting what must have been hundred of muscles in his chest, arms and back. He then pulled off his shoes and socks and let his toes sink into the mud. Lastly he removed his shorts, leaving only his cotton briefs.

Dropping his towel near the pile of clothes, Stiles slowly he stepped into the water, letting it lap over his feet. The water was warm from being in the sun and he stepped in; the water lapped around his knees, waist then stomach as he waded further in. The water, whilst initially painful and sharp against his bruises and cuts, became soothing and warm. He gingerly started to wash the mud off himself. Brushing his waist with the water, the mud softened and washed away. He started to wash the mud from his legs and chest. Bracing himself, he slowly waded in further until the water lapped around his throat. Taking in a deep breath he dipped his head under the water. As he held his breath, he ran his fingers through his hair, slowly washing the mud from it, and untangling the clumps. Breathing out bubbles, he washed the mud from his face.

Surfacing he wiped the water from his eyes and nose. He felt, for the first time in 24 hours, completely clean and relaxed. In the water his shoulder didn't feel that bad and the pain of his bruises had definitely lessened. He slowly let go and let his body float to the surface so he was floating on his back. He could feel the water move around him but it wasn't strong enough to pull his body. Looking towards the river he could see the strong current pull past and eddy around the edge of the swimming hole. At the corner of the river and the swimming hole was a large tree hanging into the water. Planks of wood had been nailed to the trunk to form stairs and a tire swing hung from a study branch. Both the stairs and the tyre were slick with water, which Stiles guessed was from the pack's outing here.

Wading back to the edge of the water, Stiles grabbed his clothes and pulled them into the water with him. Dropping his muddy shoes into the shallow water, he started to soak the mud from his shirt and shorts. After all the water around the clothes had run clear and all the mud was gone, he drudged out of the water to a nearby tree and, after wringing the water from his clothes, hung them up on a branch in the sun to dry.

Laying his head back he felt the water pool around the edges of his face. He stared up at the forest, the tree tops and the blue sky. The weather had been perfect today - bright blue sky, sun and fluffy clouds. If there was perfect weather to be tortured via obstacle course - this was it. Closing his eyes his listened to the trickling water, and his own breathing. With his ears under water he could hear the intake and exhale of his breath which was surprisingly relaxing. He felt all his tense, sore muscles relax and loosen. He slowly shut his eyes and concentrated on the water beneath him.

Just as his was beginning to drop back to sleep his eyes snapped open as he heard a noise from the bush. Raising his head from the water, he listened to the sounds of feet walking over earth and twigs bending and then snapping back into place. Someone was coming. Standing up in the water he could only watch as the Derek appeared.

Stiles suddenly realised how exposed he was. In his briefs. In the water. Alone. Oh God. Fuck. Maybe if he closed his eyes as tight as he could and wished really hard the river would swallow him up. He tried. He opened his eyes. It hadn't worked. He was still there. He briefly considered ducking under the water but either he would have to hold his breath for an inhuman amount of time, or he would have to swim out to the river and be dragged away by the current. Neither of which sounded particularly appealing. Or he could just die. That was always an option.

But it was too late. Derek was at the water's edge. And was staring directly at him. Fuck.

Derek was clearly as surprised as he was. One hand held his balled up t shirt and the other was on his belt. Stiles couldn't help gazing at Derek's chest which was chiselled to the point of resembling a marble statue of Adonis. I mean how were those abs even possible!? After working out at the gym, playing lacrosse _and _running from werewolves on a daily basis Stiles only had the faintest outline of abs. What did Derek _do_ to achieve that? Stile's stare ran over Derek's broad shoulders, to his collar bone to his pecs.

Stiles realised he was staring and quickly redirected his stare towards Derek's face. Thankfully Derek seemed to be distracted and after scanning Stile's torso with a potently hot stare, he regained eye contact. Neither of them spoke. Finally Derek broke his stare and walked over to the bank to undress. Stiles quickly averted his eyes and ducked under water, only to surface as Derek began to wade in. The dude looked like Daniel Craig. This was equal parts unfair and hot.

Derek waded in near him and began to wash. Dipping his head under the water he scrubbed the dirt from his hair and then moved on to his chest as his body gleamed as the sun hit the water. Oh God. This was so awkward. Should he leave? But then it would look like he was deliberately ditching Derek. But he surely couldn't stay. This was too awkward.

Then he realised the Derek was staring at him. And not in the smouldering I-want-to-take-you-here-and-now way like earlier. His gaze was jumping from place to place - from his collar bone, to his shoulder to his chest. And then he clicked. Derek was staring at the bruises. Remembering Derek's abuse from earlier Stiles suddenly grew angry. "Feeling guilty are we?" he snapped.

Derek slowly looked up at him. He seemed to mulling something over. Trying to find the right words. "I didn't mean to put you through so much. I was just trying to look out for you."

After a pause Stiles realised that his mouth was hanging open and quickly shut it. "Loo...Looking out for me!? You stood over me and threatened to rip my throat out with your teeth. In what way is that "looking out for me?" Stiles exclaimed, his hands flying out of the water to do an exaggerated quoting gesture, which sent water flying all over Derek.

"You're the only human in my pack. Shocking as this may be to you, I don't want to see you ripped to shreds at the claws of the alpha pack or unable to defend yourself when Scott turns and lashes out. I was pushing you harder than the rest of them because you, out of everyone here, need to be the strongest!"

Stiles softened when Derek described him as one of the pack. He abruptly realised that Derek had taken a few steps forward during his rant and they were now standing almost nose to nose. He paused, staring at Derek, wondering if he was going to move away. Seconds past and Derek hadn't jumped away in disgust. Stiles inched forward until his chest was almost pressed against Derek. Just as Derek leaned his head forward the sound of footsteps rang around the swimming hole.

Jumping apart they both tried to act natural in the rippled and choppy water as Scott broke through the bush. He eyed the pair suspiciously. "Umm...Peter told me to bring you both back as everyone is hungry and it's your night to cook." he said, staring at Derek.

Derek cleared his throat. "Yeah...okay...I'll be there soon. You two go, I'll catch up."

Stiles quickly waded out of the water, dried himself of with the towel and wrapped it around his waist as quick as he could. After picking up his soaking and now clean shoes from the shallows, and his now dry clothes from the tree branch, he hurried over to the edge of the forest where Scott was waiting. Glancing over his shoulder once, he saw Derek standing in the water, staring after him.

"...Did I interrupt something?" Scott asked, battling to keep a smirk under control.

"What? Nope. No. No way." Stiles said hurriedly in a relaxed a manner as he could muster.

"Have you got a thing for our alpha, Stiles?" Scott snickered.

"Shut up. I mean no. No things. Nothing is going on." Stiles babbled.

"Probably don't want to get into a relationship with someone who could kill you using only two fingers." Scott was clearly still holding back laughter.

"Oh really? That's pretty rich coming from a guy who got tasered by his girlfriend."

Scott punched him.

"Whipped." Stiles coughed.

Scott punched him again.

The sounds laughter and fighting echoed throughout the forest as they made their way back to the clearing.

* * *

**_Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review! Different playlist for this chapter - 8tracks dotcom / weirdzebrathing / let-s-do-the-panic-tonight_**


	5. Chapter 5

_Please excuse any typos or grammatical errors in this chapter as I am currently typing on my I pod due to my laptop breaking down. The touch screen is slowly driving me insane. Also sorry for the delay, I'm currently in the middle of end of year exams._

* * *

Waking up in his tent the next morning, Stiles felt considerably better than he had previously had. His muscles still ached and he was still covered in bruises, but at least he was clean and had had a proper nights sleep. Looking over to Scott he found that he was still fast asleep.

Pulling his sleeping bag around him stiles lay on his back and started to think over yesterday's events. He had never been particularly worried about his sexuality knowing that while he was primarily attracted to girls, he was occasionally attracted to guys. This didn't worry him hugely as he knew that, should he choose to have a boyfriend, his dad and friends would be cool with it. They probably wouldn't be particularly surprised to be perfectly honest.

He thought back to Lydia. Even now, months after she and Jackson had go back together it still physically hurt to think of her. He had come to terms with the fact that they wouldn't be together by that didn't mean that he didn't still love her. **  
**

And then there was Derek. He was hot, sure. No one could deny that. Hot in an approach-at-your-own-risk way. He thought about yesterday and wondered if anything else would happen between them. Did he want anything to happen? He had never seen Derek when he wasn't angry and brooding. Yesterday had been good though. It was, if he was totally honest with himself, to closest he had got to getting any action in a while. He made a mental note to cock block Scott next time he had the opportunity.

"It's like I can actually hear your brain working." Scott groaned as he stretched and yawned.

"When does Derek want us up?" Stiles asked, slightly paranoid that his friend could mindread and had been woken up by him thinking about him.

"Now, apparently." Scott said, cocking his head to the side in a way that made him look like a dog. A werepuppy joke on the tip of his tongue, Scott interrupted him-

"If you make a joke about me looking like a dog Stiles I swear to God." Which didn't do much to dispell the mindreading hypothesis.

After they got dressed they wandered over to the rest of the pack who had already started eating breakfast. Jackson was talking loudly about a party he been attended a week ago but Stiles was only half listening as he looked around the clearing for Derek. He spotted him and Peter walking from their tents.

The day was far colder than yesterday, with dark grey clouds blocking out the sun. It was probably going to rain. Stiles didn't think this would stop Derek from working them as hard as he could. It could be snowing and Derek would probably still have them running and training.

Derek and Peter finally reached the group and announced that today the pack would learn basic combat. Stiles wondered if he would be learning to fight or would be used as a punching bag. Derek was going out of his way to avoid eye contact. He was looking at his betas, at the surrounding forest - everywhere except Stiles. Disturbingly Peter was looking at him. If his smirk was anything to go by, it appeared Derek had told him about yesterday. Fantastic.

* * *

Much to his despair Stiles was once again paired with Jackson. Himself paired with Peter, Derek started to go through a series of basic blocking moves. Thankfully there was no actual combat involved. Peter would pretend to punch Derek and Derek would in turn would block it. This meant that, thankfully, Jackson didn't actually get to hit him. Jackson would just throw his fist at Stiles with lightening fast speed, stopping a couple of inches from his face, and Stiles would wave his arms in front of him wildly, hoping that it would block him. Derek looked on dissaprovingly.

* * *

After an hour of non stop punching and blocking, Stiles was exhausted. He didn't have to worrying about actually punching Jackson, as his reflexes were fast enough to simply catch Stiles' fist in mid air. It was infuriating. What was even more infuriating was Derek was glaring at them. Isaac and Scott, on the other hand, we're having a ball. They had mastered blocking and punching and Peter was now teaching them some grappling moves. Scott currently had Isaac on his back in an arm lock and they were both laughing as Isaac tried to flip Scott off him.

Finally Derek called for them to stop.

"That was useless." Derek growled. "None of you would survive a fight with an alpha, let alone a pack of them! None of you seem to grasp how important this is. To teach you, you are going to fight me. Using the blocks and punches you just learnt."

Everyone straightened up at this, all knowing that no one stood a chance against him. "Stiles. You're first." Erica gasped and Scott turned to look at him. Stiles couldn't quite believe what he had heard. Of everyone he could have chosen, why would he deliberately chose the weakest? Slowly he dragged his feet to stand in front of the Pack. Turning to face Derek he saw that even Peter looked worried. Which was hardly a good sign. Trying to think of a snarky comment and failing, Stiles prepared himself by turning his body sideways, stepping his feet a shoulder width apart and raising his arms ready to block Derek's blows.

Suddenly Derek's fist flew out and Stiles only just managed to block it. Straight after, Derek punched with his other arm. Attempting to block it, the blow hit shoulder, the same one that he had injured yesterday. Derek took advantage as Stiles stumbled off balance and in the blink of an eye Derek had swept him off feet. With a thud Stiles landed on his back, hard. There was a sharp pain in his arm as Derek twisted it above his head. Stiles cried out as the pain shot down his arm, trying uselessly to push Derek off him.

Finally Derek let go and stood up. Stiles scrambled to his feet. It occurred to him that there was nothing keeping him there. Surely after that no one would force him to stay. Silently he stormed off towards the tents. Scott started after him. Reaching the tents he rooted through his bag for his keys. This whole thing was ridiculous. What was Derek trying to prove anyway? It's not as if Stiles would ever be strong or fast enough to survive a fight with a werewolf. Finding his keys, he stumbled out of his tent and walked over to his jeep. Ignoring the stares or the pack and the shouts of Scott, he climbed in and started the ignition.

Cursing himself come believing Derek yesterday and for being stupid enough to come in the first place, Stiles turned his jeep around and drove out of the clearing.

* * *

_Once again please excuse the grammar. Auto correct is a bitch. Too lazy to proof read, I'm going to drink tea and finish watching LOTR instead. Don't forget to review :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_I'm changing the rating of this story to an M. This has been a warning._

* * *

Stiles turned on the windscreen wipers and considered turning on the radio to drown out his thoughts. He turned the dial. Country blared into the jeep. He tried to tune it. Static...static...Taylor Swift. Angrily he turned it off...only for the dial to fall off in his hand. "Teardrops on my Guitar" pumped into the jeep. Tightening his hands on the wheel, Stiles gritted his teeth and concentrated on the road. Forest flew past the windows and rain started to pelt at his windscreen.

Stiles didn't know what he was going to do when he got home. He still had two and a half weeks of school holiday left. With Scott and the rest of the pack still camping, town was going to be empty. It was going to be so boring that he might actually be driven into doing something productive.

Better than being here though. He had had it with always ending up bruised and broken after training. He supposed that he should probably see a doctor about his shoulder when he got back, because Derek had twisted it so hard he could barely use it. He couldn't believe that he had let Derek persuade him with that bullshit about just wanting to protect him. Clearly that wasn't the case. Derek obviously took some kind of sick, sadist enjoyment from seeing him in pain.

Suddenly he saw a blur out of the corner of his eye. Looking over at the forest at the side of the road - yep, a distinct black blur was racing through the forest and keeping pace with his car. He cursed as he tore his eyes away to change gears, it was probably Scott wanting to know if he was alright. Glancing back at the forest, Stiles strained his eyes ans searched for the blur, only to find that it had disappeared.

Looking back to the road Stiles saw that Derek was standing calmly in the middle of the road. "FUCK!" Stiles yelled as he jumped on the brakes and swerved to avoid him. The jeep veered off the road and Stiles only just managed to turn it before it hit a tree. The jeep rocked dangerously before finally settling. Stiles dropped his head onto the steering wheel with a thunk and forced himself to breathe.

"Why are you listening to Taylor Swift?" asked a husky voice behind him. Stiles glared at him and turned the ignition off. "May I?" Derek asked, gesturing to the passenger seat door. Stiles just shrugged incredulously.

Derek threw his leather jacket into the back seat and jumped into the front passenger seat. Awkward silence followed as Stiles fiddled with the peeling leather on the steering wheel, not knowing what to say. "I meant what I said yesterday." Derek murmured.

"Oh yeah yesterday. That's right! That was _before_ you pretty much broke my arm in front of the Pack, but _after_ you almost killed me with your obstacle course!" Stiles exclaimed, waving his unhurt arm around to emphasise his point.

Derek slammed a fist down on the dashboard so hard it almost cracked. "Hey! Be careful with the car, man!" "Stiles! For fuck's sake, we've through this!" "Yeah, we did, but that was before todays training session! What the fuck do you call that?"

Derek sighed and turned to stare out the window. "Stiles, for the last time, I meant what I said. I'm...worried about you." The last words were mumbled, as if Derek was embarrassed at the mere thought of being concerned for another human being. "As much as the pack tries not to think about it, the alpha pack are out there and they're coming for us. When they do finally attack, which I'm sure they will, we need to be prepared."

Meeting his eyes he found that Derek was staring at him so intensely that Stiles went back to peeling the leather from the steering wheel. Stiles coughed awkwardly. "And that justifies beating me up how exactly...?"

"You're the weakest of the lot. You don't have the strength or speed of the wolves. You need to train the hardest and push yourself the furtherest if you don't want to die!"

"Can't argue with that logic." Stiles grumbled as he started the car up and tried to head back to the road. Unfortunately it was still raining and the wheels had sunk into the mud. Stiles tried pressed harder on the accelerator as the wheels spun uselessly.

"Stiles. Stiles! Stop, you're only making it worse!" Derek hopped out of the car and after a pause and an internal argument, Stiles grudgingly got out too and walked into the rain. They both stood and stared at the wheels which had half way sunk into the mud. "Right. Well." Derek said gruffly as he moved towards the jeep. Slowly he bent down and gripped either side of the tyre and slowly began to lift it from the mud. Wishing he had grabbed his coat from his tent, Stiles wrapped his arms around himself and tried to look at the trees, the clouds, anything apart from Derek, who was currently on his third tire - muscles straining as he lifted the weight of the jeep and his muddy white shirt, sleeves pushed up to the elbows, was soaking and clinging to his skin.

Derek glanced up and smirked as he caught Stiles staring. Embarrassed, Stiles quickly averted his eyes. "There. Should be alright now." Derek grunted as he straightened up from the final tire and walked back round to Stiles. "You look freezing, grab my jacket from the back seat." Stiles climbed into the back of the jeep, feeling it groan as Derek climbed in behind him.

"I want you to come back to camp." Derek murmured, closer than Stiles had thought he was. "It's your choice of course, and I'm done with threatening you. But I think would be good for you. I think you need the training." Turning to face him, Stiles found himself, just like yesterday, nose to nose with Derek. Remembering that there was no Scott around to cock block him, Stiles shuffled his body closer to Dereks and leaned in. He went slowly and hoped that he hadn't misinterpreted this, otherwise there was a high likelihood that he would soon he lying face down in a ditch with his throat ripped out, being eaten by wild dogs as Derek drove off in his jeep.

To his surprise Derek, who had clearly grown impatient, suddenly gripped the back of Stiles' neck with one hand and pulled him in. Their lips came together and for a second Stiles didn't move, taking in Dereks heat and the soft feeling of his mouth. Then, sliding his arms around Derek's neck and burying his hands in his hair, he opened his mouth and deepened the kiss. Derek groaned and pushed forward until Stiles was underneath him.

Stiles hooked his legs around the back of Dereks and pulled him closer into him. The alpha pulled back and began to kiss Stiles' neck, his teeth dragging over the sensitive patch just under his jaw, tongue drawing over the stubble. He bit down, hard and then ran his lips over the mark. Stiles could feel Derek getting hard and bucked his hips upwards, their wet jeans grinding together.

Outside the rain had started to pour and was thundering on the roof of the jeep. Stiles rested his head back on the leather seat and pulled Derek's mouth to his. Teeth clashing, Stiles ground his hips upward and Derek groaned. Derek began to rhythmically grind their erections together. Stiles tightly gripped Derek's hair as he bucked his hips.

Sitting up for a moment, Derek pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion and quickly pulled Stiles' off also. Pulling Derek on top of him, Stiles ran his hands over his abs, up his chest and over his shoulders. Drawing his hands up Derek's back, he watched the scratch marks heal as he dragged his nails down Derek's back. Derek hissed and started to palm Stiles' erection. Feeling his crotch start to throb, Stiles pulled Derek's lips to his and slipped his tongue into his mouth.

Pulling back and opening his eyes, Stiles saw that the irises of Derek's eyes were beginning to tinge with red. "I think...we need...to stop." Stiles gasped. Derek reluctantly agreed, pulling his hand from Stiles' crotch and resting on top of him, with his head resting in the crook of Stiles' neck.

Stiles lay there, still extremely turned on but not wanting Derek to wolf out on him. He closed his eyes, listened to the rain and wondered how the hell he was going to explain the bite marks on his throat to the pack.


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey everyone! Sorry for the ridiculously slow update, I've had school exams and then the school ball and then moving house. Busy times. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm still writing on my iPod though so please excuse any stupid autocorrect mistakes._

Stiles and Derek got back to the clearing just as it was getting dark. They talked a little but neither or them mentioned what had happened earlier. As they pulled into the clearing, the pack no where to be seen, having retreated into their tents. Stiles climbed from the jeep and walked over to his tent. He tried to be as quiet as he could, but naturally this wasn't quiet enough for Scott.

"Dude, your shoulder looks like it's dislocated."

"Do you think you can pop it back in?" Stiles winced.

"I don't know. I've only done it once before when Danny put his shoulder out on the lacross field year."

Scott pulled himself up and, after wiggling out of his sleeping bag, walked over to Stiles and positioned his right hand on Stiles' shoulder and his left hand on his arm. "Okay. I'm just going to roll the arm forward and then backward and the joint should pop back into place." Stiles braced himself against the pain and with a pop, the joint was back in place.

"Soo do you want to talk about it?" Scott smirked.

"Talk about what?"

"Dude, you REEK of Derek."

Stiles blushed. "We may have made out in my jeep after he stopped me from leaving." he mumbled.

"Are you serious?! You're making out with my alpha? Derek Hale? As in the guy we tried to get arrested a year ago? As in broody glarey sourwolf? As in the guy who hangs out in an abandoned train? As in-"

"Yes, okay, I get it!" Stiles glared at Scott dramatically, not sure to be pleased or annoyed that he seemed to be over looking the fact that Stiles had just stepped out of the metaphorical closet. "Yes. I made out with sourwolf. But can we not talk about it here, surrounded by werewolves with superhuman hearing!"

"Yeah okay. We need to talk about this though." Scott said, pushing past Stiles to exit the tent.

Stiles followed him and was relieved to see that none of the pack appeared to be listening, having all gathered around a bonfire at the other side of the darkening clearing.

"You coming, bro?" Scott asked.

"Nah I reckon I'll just stay here and sleep today off."

"Whatever dude." said Scott with a smirk.

Stiles walked back into the dark tent and crawled into his sleeping bag. He didn't know what he wanted. Did he want Derek? I mean he was hot. But he was also the pack leader and if he screwed things up, he could screw things up for the entire pack. And Scott would never let him hear the end of it.

He closed his eyes and by the time Scott returned he was already asleep.

* * *

He woke up to the sound of Scott scrambling to get ready. "Derek's called us over. I need to pee, I'll meet you over there." Scott said as he headed out. Stiles quickly got dressed and then followed him, wincing as the bright morning sun hurt his eyes.

Stiles joined the group as Scott walked towards the trees. Stiles would bet good money that he was going to try and call Allison. God knows how long it would take for him to find reception.

Derek glanced at him and then quickly looked back at the pack, as if he was afraid of giving himself away. He addressed the group, "Today we are going to do the same basic combat training yesterday. Tomorrow we'll be doing some weapon training." Isaac glanced nervously at Stiles, as if the mere idea of Stiles with a gun made him nervous. "Finally, on Wednesday we'll be doing the same obstacle course that you completed a couple of days ago. Go and have some breakfast. I'll meet you back here In fifteen minutes."

Stiles walked with the pack to the breakfast things and poured himself a bowl of cornflakes. As he ate he watche'd Derek and Peter sparring. They were doing so with slightly more aggression than was strictly nesscessary. Scott still wasn't back. He was probably climbing a tree or something in an attempt to get reception.

Finishing his breakfast, Stiles walked back to twe training area, with the pack trailing behind him. Derek and Peter had stopped sparring, with Derek helping Peter back to his feet.

"We're going to be doing the same practicing in partners likehe's did yesterday. Isaac and Jackson, you're up first."

Isaac and Jackson ambled towards the front of the pack and moved into position - feet shoulder width apart and fists in front them, turned sideways. They were still for a moment then suddenly Jackson whipped his leg into a roundhouse kick aimed at Isaac's stomach which Isaac managed to duck under. After a moment Isaac retaliated with a lightening fast punch to Jackson's throat which Jackson blocked. This continued, trading kicks and punches all of which were blocked. The speed of which accelerated until finally Isaac faked a punchtwitch his left fist and then, as Jackson went to block, switched to a powerful jump kick to Jackson's chest which sent him flying.

Jackon picked himself up, brushing grass off of his clothes and Derek nodded for them to sit back down with the pack.

"Stiles. With me." Derek said shortly, readying himself. Stiles' heart was pounding as he walked in front of everyone and moved into position. As he waited he tried to look for indications of Derek's attack in his chest, like they had been taught yesterday.

He noticed a muscle twitch in Derek's right shoulder and only just managed to block a punch as Derek lashed out his right arm. Stiles half heartedly attempted a side kick but Derek ducked out of the way with ease. "I don't see how I have any chance of winning." Stiles grumbled.

Suddenly Scott came crashing through the forest near the pack. Derek snapped his head round. Stiles, realizing that he might not get another opportunity like this, took advantage of Derek being distracted. He swung a low roundhouse kick to the back of Derek's knees and at the same time threw an arm across his chest, pushing him backwards.

Before he knew what was happening Derek fell, landing flat on his back. The pack froze in stunned silence and then cheered loudly. Derek smiled as he pulled himself back to his feet.

Stiles went and sat back next to Scott, who fistbumped him. He looked up to catch Derek staring at him.

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_continuity error of the day- if Stiles had cornflakes where did they keep the milk? I don't think they have fridges in the middle of the forest._

_*we just don't know*_

_Please review! (the chapter that is, not the error)_


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